Last One Standing
by Shada
Summary: Demise of the X-Men. It's pretty gory, but it's no Devil's Due so I gave it a PG-13


Last One Standing

By: Shada

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men nor am I making any money off this story.

Rating: PG-13 (violence)

Summary: the end of the X-men

Note: if you want to archive it, email me

~*~*~*~

This can't be happening, I don't believe it. Bright Lady please say this day hasn't come. It can't have come, there is so much they, we, left unfinished, so much we haven't done, so much we haven't fixed. We knew this would chance, none of us waned to accept it though. Maybe if we had, I wouldn't be the last one standing.

It's not like I'm even in that good condition myself- I won't last through the hour, but I've made my peace. I got the time to, even as blood poured from multiple wounds across my chest and back and the crack to my head began to take effect. I got the time to accept death, but they did not.

We were hit so fast from all directions at once. That was how we lost Warren, he tried to fly but lost his wings to bullets in mid air and crumpled to the ground never to rise again. Betsy somehow managed to keep going but his scream, both physical and psychic, was horrifying to everyone. It must have hit her harder than all of us and yet she fought with the best of us. Grief probably drove her forward.

It wasn't until after Warren died that we realized how grave was the situation we were in. They had surrounded us with Sentinels and armed forces both and were tearing us apart with a renewed energy. I saw Jean go down under an endless barrage or bullets and then Scott tried to save her but stepped in front of the shells too late and fell in a heap across his wife, blood pumping freely. I realized then that I had to take command- without a leader we were doomed, if we weren't already.

A yell of horror and pain lanced through the air and all heads twisted to see Logan lifted into the arms of a Sentinel and torn in half beyond any repair his healing mutation could factor in. He was thrown unceremoniously to the ground in two pieces and, tears streaming from her eyes, Jubilee let out a roar that would have made him proud as she stood guard over his body. Plasma bolts shot from her fingertips, incinerating any who got to close. Those bolts, however, didn't save her from the point blank range bullet that caught her at her right temple, killing her instantly. None of us remaining had the time to even grieve over the loss of so many of our teammates.

There was a resounding crash a few feet behind me. I turned to see Rogue pick up another Sentinel with both hands and throw it against a brick wall as bullets deflected off of her. Remy stood her guard, tossing charged cards at anyone who got too close. Off to my left a group of Friends of Humanity were frozen solid and another band fell on a slippery patch of ice that had just appeared.

A man with a knife was attacking me and I had never trained diligently with this in the Danger Room. After catching me several times across my stomach and then back he was finally stopped with Bobby Drake took the stab to the chest that was meant for me. I have never felt more helpless than at that moment when I could do nothing as a dear friend died in my stead. I had no time to waste, however- time was little and lives remaining were less.

"Cherie." Remy whispered only one word as he knelt beside Rogue, bleeding and dying men surrounding them. Wondering what could have killed our invulnerable Mississippian, I saw her head at a crooked angle to her body- her neck had been snapped and now she lay at the end of her life. Still fighting, I watched as Remy kissed her long and hard, even as her absorbing power took hold and he was riddled with bullets. He fell over her as she breathed her last, both still locked in their embrace. I pity the person who finds them.

Betsy and I were all that was left of the proud field team of X-men that left the mansion this morning- everyone one of us expecting to make it back tonight. Betsy took one look at our fallen teammates and went crazy, her psychic knife tearing through any and all that got in her way. The only reason she didn't accidentally take down any of our own was because they were already dead. I cleared the path for her as she attacked- we weren't going down without a fight.

But we were going down. I watched in horror as a knife was thrust into her stomach and cruelly twisted. Betsy died with a look of agonizing pain etched on her face- it was probably best Warren was not around to see that.

Somewhere in all of this someone had hit me over the head from behind and as I look out over the fallen my vision begins to swim. Blood seeping from my back coats my uniform with its red stickiness and I cannot look down at my own stomach for fear the gore will make me vomit. I am holding myself together with one hand as I fight valiantly with the other. My last hope is that there is someone else out there who will carry on the fight even after we're gone. I wish that Excalibur will not loose hope- Kitty, Kurt, you lead them. Tell them it's what they have to do

I'm in no pain, I know I will die before the shock wears off. I relish my last few moments alive before rendering myself to the Goddess as bullets tear through my lungs, heart, and head and I fall to the ground- but I was the last one standing.


End file.
